


In Dignus Nito

by pet



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Anal Plug, BDSM, Caning, Dubious Consent, Edgeplay, Exhibitionism, F/M, Forced Masturbation, Gags, Knifeplay, Rope Bondage, Spanking, Wax Play
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-22
Updated: 2019-12-22
Packaged: 2021-02-24 16:28:07
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,698
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21900967
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/pet/pseuds/pet
Summary: Hermione Granger goes to her lovers ancestral home thinking he's going to propose in some grand fashion. What she discovers instead is a test of her worthiness, under the guise of an ancient Pureblood Christmas Tradition.
Relationships: Hermione Granger/Draco Malfoy
Comments: 4
Kudos: 116
Collections: Twistmas 2019 - A Dark Remix Xmas Fest





	In Dignus Nito

**Author's Note:**

  * In response to a prompt by Anonymous in the [Twistmas2019](https://archiveofourown.org/collections/Twistmas2019) collection. 



> Written for the Dramione FanFiction Twistmas. My prompt was "Pureblood Christmas Tradition" and the title loosely translates to "a worthiness test". 
> 
> I am not JKR. I don't own anything you recognize. I'm just a broke college student who'd making no money from this fic.
> 
> ____________________________________________________________________________________

Hermione Granger was excited. She and Draco Malfoy had been dating (or rather “courting” as he called it) for almost a year and things were pretty serious between them. It had taken the better part of two years of working together to get beyond the petty name calling and bickering that was common between them, though they still argued on occasion. That was even after another full year of Hogwarts after the end of the Second Wizarding War, but they’d gotten past it. All it had taken was Ginny Weasley’s hen night…and a LOT of alcohol. Since Ginny was marrying Blaise Zabini, it was no surprise that Draco had shown up at the club. The real surprise came when Draco and Hermione had once again found themselves screaming at each other, and Draco had let slip that he’d fallen for her. Against the encouragements of their friends, they’d not gone home together that night, but they had eventually started dating. Now Hermione found herself dressed to the exact specifications Draco had sent her, walking between the hedgerows leading to the entrance of Malfoy Manor.

She wasn’t nervous like she thought she ought to be. She truly felt in full control of herself, ready to get the evening started and see the ring she was certain would cap the festivities. A week prior, Draco had invited her to the Manor in order to participate in what he called an old Pureblood Christmas Tradition. She’d agreed and almost immediately started researching what it could possibly involve. Her research yielded myriad results and she’d fixated on the ones that surrounded engagements and the combining of families. Tales of flowers, jewels, and grand gestures of love invaded her thoughts and painted an idyllic picture that she clung to on her chilly walk up the path. Hermione had never really thought herself a romantic, but Draco seemed to bring it out of her.

The door opened soundlessly before her. Looking around the grand foyer, she expected to see a house elf standing near to collect her outer robe but there was none. Instead, the sconces on the walls guttered and extinguished, landing her in complete darkness. Before her eyes even had the chance to adjust, a single candle appeared before her, and then another just beyond that, illuminating a path through the manse. The thick, dark fabric of her hooded black cloak swept the floor and disturbed the stillness of the halls, yet the candles gave no notice to the stirring of the air around them. Instead, as she walked, they flared to life and doused their flames, keeping her in a small bubble of light while shielding her from what was to come. She was led up two flights of stairs and soon found herself standing before a nondescript oak door, a solitary candle now providing only minimal light. Hermione raised her hand to knock.

The leather mask was secured around the lower part of her face before she even had a chance to react, and her wrists were secured behind her back by a pair of large, gloved hands. The candle disappeared as the door opened and Hermione knew a moment of fear as she caught just a glimpse of the room before her. She was led into the room by the person behind her, unsure just who was leading her and why, and was momentarily relieved when she wasn’t immediately taken to the stocks she’d seen before all light was taken away. Instead, she heard the door close behind her. After moving further into the room, she was forced to her knees.

Draco’s voice echoed in the cavernous space. “Father. Mother. I present the Mudblood Hermione Granger.”

Candles erupted to fill the room with an unnaturally bright light. Hermione swallowed thickly as a frisson of fear swept over her. Sure, she’d allowed Draco to call her that when they were alone, but never in front of other people. No one else needed to know that the prim and proper Hermione Granger got off on degradation. The light also allowed her eyes to take in the various torture devices scattered about the room. It also illuminated the regal looking pair sat on a dais above the room.

Hermione fought against the bonds that had taken the place of Draco’s hands around the wrists. She tried to yell out, to beg Draco to stop whatever he was doing, but the leather around her mouth and chin prevented any discernable sounds. He’d told her he wished for her to take part in a Pureblood tradition. He’d told her to wear her open cup corset and crotchless knickers underneath the simple sheath dress and cloak he’d owled her earlier in the day. She was sure he was going to propose and then fuck her in his childhood bedroom. Now she wasn’t sure what he was doing.

He left her kneeling there, magically pinned to the floor, as he circled the room and prepared in a way that could only be described as ceremonial. She heard water running and the sound of him washing his hands as he chanted in Latin. He’d dressed in full, traditional Wizarding robes and now moved before her and removed the outer robes, leaving him clad in the more form-fitting under robes. In his hands he held his wand which he used to remove her dress, but not her cloak or under things. Then he walked away to set down his wand and returned with a strange metal device she’d never seen before. It resembled a small cage, in the loosest sense of the term, and it had what could only be described as an egg protruding into the interior of the cage. Draco reached out toward her, removed the leather mask, and then opened the cage. She made to speak to him, but discovered she’d been silenced. The tears came when he forced her mouth open with the egg and secured the cage over her head.

The metal in her mouth was cold and didn’t seem to be warming up at all. The object also prevented her from closing her mouth fully, and in her efforts to warm the metal, she could feel spittle dripping down her chin. For a moment she thanked herself for putting her hair up tonight, knowing how it would have been pulled and ripped at with the cage. Her thoughts were quickly brought back to the moment as Draco finally removed her cloak and exposed her practically bare body to the chilled room and the even chillier eyes of her lover’s parents. The elder Malfoy’s looked on with a detached distain as Draco began to explain what was happening.

“I invited you here to take part in the most ancient of Pureblood Christmas Traditions: In Dignus Nito. When a Malfoy heir decides to take a bride, she is brought before the family and her worthiness is tested. If she survives the test, she is exalted above all. If not… Well, I’m sure you understand the alternative.”

She was elated and terrified. While he’d just told her that he wanted to marry her, he also said that she may not survive the night to come. Worse than that, she would be forced to endure whatever he was to set out of her under the eye of his parents. She’d already endured so much within these walls…

Her head lowed and the first of her tears was beginning to leak from her left eye when she felt a burning sensation on her right shoulder. It lasted for but a moment before it faded to a tingle and then a slight stiffness took its place. The sensation was repeated on her left shoulder and then the top of her left breast. She hissed at the pain she now recognized as candle wax and tried to scream out when Draco dripped some wax over her nipples. He continued to drizzle hot wax onto her shoulders and breasts until her upper body was covered in a layer of the dried substance. Then he knelt behind her and undid the bindings around her wrists.

Draco stood her up and kissed her lightly on the forehead, pulling away when she sought comfort. He massaged her arms briefly before wandlessly summoning a length of rope from somewhere in the room. Working methodically and with a precision she’d only seen in the kitchen or the Potions classroom, he began to wrap the ropes around her arms. He tied knots periodically, binding her arms to her body and breaking off some of the wax in the process. Her hands were placed together, palms in, before her, and he bound her wrists and thumbs. Then he removed the corset and wove intricate patterns around her midsection and breasts, catching her nipples between the ropes. Next, he carefully took the cage from around her head and carefully removed the device from her mouth. Though she was still without use of her voice, she expressed her displeasure with her eyes. Ropes made their way around her head and along the crease of her lips. He stepped back from her to admire his work, nodding more to himself than anything, and then led her across the room to a low padded bench.

Hermione was nervous now. She’d noticed the row of canes and switches along the wall, and she would have sworn she saw the glint of a blade or two before he bent her over the bench, chest down. He arranged her face to the side and then pulled out the pins holding her hair in place.

“I love your hair, Granger. You know how much it pleases me to see it wild when we play.”

She wanted to yell at him that they weren’t playing, that he’d brought her there under false pretenses, that she would never agree to doing anything of this sort in front of his parents. Her voice, or rather her lack of voice, prevented it, and somewhere deep inside she felt this intense desire to gut this out and prove herself. Instead she glared at him as he grasped her hips and positioned her at an optimal spanking angle, using a nonverbal spell to raise the height of the bench so that she was standing on tip toes. His glove-clad hands caressed her buttocks before he stepped away and laid his left hand on her lower back. His right then began a brutal assault on her backside. He alternated intensity, side, and angle, raining blows high on her thighs, on each cheek, and even occasionally slapping the juncture of her thighs where her cunt was.

Hermione hated that this was turning her on as much as it was, but it couldn’t be helped. She always did enjoy a good spanking. She could feel her arousal beginning to run down her thighs as the pain in her ass built to a deep throb. Every impact of Draco’s hand sent a shiver of need through her even as the pain brought tears to her eyes. As his blows increased in intensity and frequency, her tears flowed more freely, and her cunt began to pulse with the desire to be filled. Draco paused for a moment and waved his hand over her, letting her know it was ok to cry out. Then he began to spank her again, slapping each cheek four more times, harder than he’d ever spanked her before, adding in two swats to her cunt, though not as hard. She was on the verge of orgasm when he stopped and walked away, and her frustration added to the tears already pouring from her eyes.

She whimpered when he lowered the bench and shivered when he ran a hand through her hair. He pressed his lips to hers, catching a bit of rope, and whispered how good she was doing, how proud he was of her, how much he loved her. She was shaking when he carefully began to massage some healing potion into her backside, sighing in relief as some of the pain faded. Then he stood her up and held her for a moment before the sound of a throat clearing alerted him that he wasn’t nearly finished with his task.

“Are you ready for more?” he asked her, not expecting an answer. She’d proven her strength and resilience to him time and again, and she knew that he would continue until she used her safe word…or in this case her safe signal, as she still couldn’t speak with the rope in her mouth. Perhaps that was what he meant by surviving the test? If she didn’t safe word, or gesture, out of this impromptu scene, would Mr and Mrs Malfoy deem her worthy of the Malfoy name? Of their son?

He stood her up and led her to a St Andrew’s Cross near the bench. He turned her so that her back was to the cross and then began to untie the ropes around her body. As he revealed the skin beneath, he massaged some feeling into the skin and kissed the indentations left behind by his work. He once again praised her behavior and then moved to fasten her into the bindings attached to the cross. Turning his back on her, he walked away for but a moment before returning to her, a slight look of regret in his eyes.

The blade was small, only a few inches in length, but based on the bead of blood dangling from his thumb, it was sharp enough to do the job. After cutting away her knickers, he raised the knife enough for her to see it and then brought it to her left shoulder. With gentle swipes, he used the blade to remove the remaining wax from her body. It passed over her shoulders, her collar, the swell of her breasts. He even brought it to her nipples to remove the little bit that wasn’t taken off by the ropes. Every now and again, he would intentionally nick her skin, staring in wonder for a moment at the crimson blood that rose above the cuts. Once he was certain the wax was gone, he traced her jaw with the blade, trailed it down her neck just hard enough to leave a mark without breaking the skin, and then pressed it harder into the supple skin of her breasts. He took his time with the blade, carving decorative shapes and figures into her skin. Sometimes he would simply drag the knife along her body. Other times he would purposefully draw blood. Those were the times screams would leave her.

When he was satisfied with his work on the front of her, Draco released her bindings and turned her around. Purposefully neglecting to heal her, he bound her again to the cross. She felt him walk away from her briefly and when he returned, his mouth was at her ear showering her with encouraging words even has his hand was working a cool, slick substance between the cheeks of her ass. That was when she felt the press of what she knew to be an anal plug against her rear entrance. He eased it into her, and she quickly determined it to be larger than anything they’d ever played with before. She took it, breathing through the pain and pushing back against him, against it, until it was fully inside of her. As she panted against the fullness inside of her, Draco again told her what an amazingly good girl she was before he stepped away and began to use the blade on her back. She was sensitive on her back, and he knew it. They’d played with a pinwheel many times and Draco knew just where to run it to get the best reactions from her. Now with the blade, the element of fear was mixed into the pleasure pain she was experiencing. Add into it the plug inside her, and Hermione wasn’t sure how much longer she could survive before an orgasm was forcefully torn from her.

As it turned out, all it took was one swipe of the knife along her spine at the small of her back. Her body jerked painfully against the bonds, pressing into the cross, and convulsing uncontrollably. She was screaming and panting, her limbs fighting to be free of their confines and her pussy clenching against nothing. Her release seemed to linger, yet it left her even more wanting. She could feel her muscles tightening against the plug, but she still felt empty. As her orgasm subsided, Hermione found herself begging for Draco to fuck her, to touch her, to fill her cunt. He ignored her. Instead, once he was certain she was finished coming down from her high, he once again released her from the cross and led her across the room to a strange looking chair.

The chair had an extra-long base and was rather squat. At the top of the back there were what appeared to be ankle cuffs tethered by six inches of chain, but that really didn’t make sense in Hermione’s mind. Draco sat her on the edge and pressed her shoulders gently to lay her back. Her head and neck were scrunched up a bit, her chin to her chest, and she was thankful for his insistence that they work out regularly, for he bent her legs up and secured her ankles above her head. Draco placed a small spreader bar between her knees and made sure she was positioned correctly so that she didn’t fall. When he was satisfied she was sufficiently placed and bound, he summoned his wand and smirked at her. With a silent incantation, the tip of his wand began to vibrate. He touched the tip of his wand to her clit and she cried out, jerking uselessly in her compromised position. He held his wand there long enough for her to come to the edge of orgasm before he pulled back and smirked again. When she’d calmed, he brought her to the brink again and again. He then summoned a thin switch and moved next to her.

The shock Hermione felt when the switch made contact with the instep of her left foot caused her to swear. Draco brought the switch down on her right instep and she cursed again, asking him what he thought he was doing.

“You’ve been doing so well, love. It’d be a shame to have to gag you.”

She knew better than to question him again, knowing that she much preferred the use of her proper voice over his idea of gagging. Those dental mouth openers were uncomfortable on the best of days… She bit back many more oaths as Draco alternated between caning her feet and stimulating her clit. After a few minutes, he must have decided her feet had been tortured enough because he threw the switch across the room and put two gloved fingers deep inside of her as he continued his assault with his vibrating wand. Just when he would feel her begin to flutter in release, he would pull back the wand and simply continue with his fingers. After a seemingly endless barrage from the combined efforts of his hand and his wand, Hermione began to orgasm. Draco immediately ceased all contact and told her not to come.

Hermione was sobbing with need when Draco pulled her from the chair and placed her on a kneeling bench that had a different sort of magic wand attached. He secured her magically to the seat and knelt down before her. Pushing her hair back from her face, he spoke.

“You’re so amazing, my heart. You’re almost there. Almost done.”

He stood and used his wand to turn on the vibrations on the other wand. Nestled against her pussy, the vibrations quickly brought her to orgasm. She shook and shuddered against her invisible bonds as Draco stood over her smiling. Just as one orgasm ended another would begin. The magic wand stirred a seemingly endless cycle of orgasms that lasted almost ten minutes before Draco turned off the vibrations. When Hermione thought she was coming down at last, he whispered a spell that caused the plug still buried in her anus to expel itself, prolonging the clenching within her, and causing her vision to grey and tunnel.

Arms wrapped around her as the love of her life pulled her from the kneeling bench and into his arms. He summoned her heavy cloak and wrapped her up in it. The two stayed on the floor of the room for almost a half an hour, Hermione coming back to herself as Draco soothed her mind and body with his words and hands. He healed her cuts from his blade, dressed her in oversized sweatpants and a tank top, pulled wool socks onto her feet, and even whispered a spell to calm her hair. After he was certain she was ok with what he’d done with her that evening, he met her eyes and spoke from the heart.

“I apologize for not warning you, but between our discussions about your fantasies and my parents desire to ensure your worthiness, tonight had to happen.” He waved his wand and the figures she’d thought were his parents transfigured back into two rather large clown dolls.

Hermione laughed. “I think I liked it better thinking your parents were watching you debase me. Those are really creepy, Draco.”

“I love you, Hermione.”

“I love you, too.”

“While my parents weren’t actually here in person, had you ended this scene before completion, they would have protested our marriage. And by Wizarding law, as heir to their fortune, I wouldn’t have been able to marry you if they didn’t deem you worthy.”

“Do you honestly think a little exhibitionism is enough to scare me away?” She paused and hid her face in his chest. “I will admit that the blade did scare me…but I trust you.”

“And I you. With my mind. With my body. With my soul, heart, and magic. You’ve proven you’re worthy of the Malfoy name. I can only hope that I’m one day worthy of you. Marry me.”

“Yes.”


End file.
